


“Happy new year.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [34]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of possible first kisses for these two.





	“Happy new year.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Southbroom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southbroom/gifts).



> A gift for Southbroom. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “I have a prompt for you. “New year’s on the beach in Cornwall.””

“You’ll need to wrap up warm,” Ilsa told Robin. “A new year’s party on a Cornish beach is not a time for glamour, it’s a time for big jumpers and boots.”

Robin grinned. She was looking forward to the party. She’d been delighted to receive Ilsa’s invitation, a little hesitant about accepting it as she didn’t know Ilsa and Nick all that well yet, but once Ilsa had realised Robin was planning to spend New Year’s Eve alone in London, she had insisted. So Robin had driven down in the old Land Rover the day before and been introduced to Ilsa’s parents. She was sleeping in a single bed in a tiny room at their house.

Ilsa gave her a sly sideways look. “You know Corm’s going to be there tonight?” she asked, and winked. “He made a last-minute decision to come down and see Joan and Ted. Can’t imagine why,” she teased, and Robin felt herself blushing.

“Doesn’t he normally come down at this time of year?” she asked, as casually as she could manage. Ilsa grinned. “Not for the last few years,” she said. “Last year we all stayed in London. It’s been a couple of years since anyone organised one of these parties.”

“Well, I haven’t been to a New Year’s Eve party for years, so I’m really looking forward to it,” Robin said. She tried not to think about how much more true that was now than it had been five minutes ago. Excitement fluttered in her heart. Stop being silly, she told herself.

The night was clear and cold as they trekked down to the beach. Nick fell into step beside Robin as Ilsa surged forward to greet people. “You watch,” he murmured to her. “Ilsa and Oggy know everyone in Cornwall, I swear. I’ve been coming here for years and we still bump into people my wife knows who I’ve never met. It’s uncanny.”

Robin grinned at him. “I can see Ilsa being super sociable,” she said. “Harder to imagine with Cormoran.”

“He might just surprise you there,” Nick said. “He hasn’t always been as reserved as he is these days.”

Robin was trying not to look as though she was hunting for Strike in the group of people accumulating on the beach. A bonfire was being lit on an open patch of damp sand, and people were arranging picnic mats and chairs. Everyone seemed to have brought all the food and drink they could carry.

Suddenly she spotted him, and despite her eagerness to see him she was unprepared for the way her heart lurched. He came towards them, smiling a greeting, kissing Ilsa on the cheek, holding out a hand to Nick, and Robin found herself hanging back a little to observe him, almost shy.

He looked... gorgeous, there was no other word for it. It was a long time since she had found his features forbidding, now she knew his subtle expressions. But she was so used to seeing him in semi-formal shirts and trousers at work. Now he wore a thick fisherman-style cream jumper with dark jeans and boots, and he was, well. The only word for it is sexy, she thought. She tried to squash such errant thoughts about her business partner as he turned to her, and was thankful that the dark hid the flush she could feel in her cheeks. He grinned at her and heat coiled deep within her. She had begun to acknowledge to herself that she found him attractive, but this was a whole new level.

She stepped forward to greet him just as he stepped to her and they ended up too close. Robin managed to swallow a squeak at his nearness, but her “hi” that was supposed to sound casual came out breathy and too high. He kissed her cheek warmly and she could smell his aftershave, feel the rough stubble already forming on his face. She inhaled him for a blissful moment and desire jumped within her. She stepped back again hurriedly. Get a grip, she told herself firmly.

“Good journey?” he asked, and she nodded. “The roads were nice and quiet,” she said, hoping she sounded normal. “Not too much traffic around between Christmas and New Year.”

“Robin, come and meet everyone,” called Ilsa. Robin gave Strike an apologetic smile and moved away, glad for a moment out of his orbit to catch her breath a little. She hadn’t been prepared for feeling like this, and needed to compose herself.

It didn’t help much. Ilsa introduced her to several people in quick succession, all of whose names Robin immediately forgot, despite normally being good with names. She was hyperaware of Strike behind her.

Strike had withdrawn from the group a little way with his beer to light a cigarette. He stood out of the circle of light cast by the rising bonfire, smoking and watching Robin greet his old friends. She looked amazing, cozily wrapped up in layers that did nothing to take away from the figure he had so long admired. Her hair glowed like flame in the firelight, golden and red highlights dancing. He saw the way the men’s eyes lingered on her. His normal determination to keep his feelings in check, to keep her at arm’s length, seemed far away this evening. A more fanciful person than he might imagine it had been left in London.

Small disposable barbecues had been lit, and sausages and burgers were being cooked. Someone had brought a portable music player and was playing party songs. The fire crackled, the alcohol flowed. Robin found herself really enjoying the evening. She got on well with Ilsa’s friends, conversation flourished, and every so often she would catch Strike’s eye in the flickering firelight and her heart would skip a beat. She stopped trying to ignore the heat between them and let herself be captured by it, allowed her eyes to linger on his, smiled softly at him, and he always smiled back.

Halfway through the evening she found herself in a group conversation with him, and in a lull they stepped aside.

“You look lovely tonight. Sparkly,” he murmured, and she flushed at the unusual and unexpected compliment.

“Thank you,” she replied. “You too.” She smiled up at him, and felt a jolt again at the way he was looking at her.

“Come for a walk,” he urged suddenly, tucking a hand under her elbow, and she nodded, turning with him to move away from the group a little.

They walked along the beach for a few minutes, the noise of the party fading behind them, darkness pressing in. The waves rolled and lapped nearby.

Strike stopped abruptly and turned to her. “Robin...” he began, and hesitated. She looked up at him. His face was unreadable, shadowed and dark. She waited, and then she realised he was slowly leaning down towards her. Her breath hitched in anticipation, and he paused, tantalisingly close, uncertain.

Unable to bear the tension, she slid her hand up to the side of his face and gently encouraged him down further.

He kissed her softly and she melted into him at once, desire leaping within her like the flames of the bonfire. Her lips moved to mirror his, her arm sliding around him, longing to feel the sexy bulk of him in that jumper against her. His tongue sought hers as he reached to pull her closer, his arms around her now. Her hand slid from his face up into his hair, fingers tangling in his curls.

Trembling, Robin pressed closer still, her tongue exploring. He moaned softly against her mouth as she ran her tongue over the scar on his lip. Heat coiled and twisted within her, making her shudder against him, and she felt something, some long-existing reserve between them, snap. Suddenly he was kissing her fiercely, his mouth hot and frantic against hers, and her knees went weak. She clung to him as he kissed her and kissed her, drowning in the sensation of him.

At length Strike pulled back, breathing hard, and rested his forehead on hers. Robin was shaking all over now, her legs wobbly.

“Wow,” she murmured, and he chuckled. “Wow indeed,” he agreed. His hand came up to caress her cheek and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Was that your intention with this walk, then? To drag me off into the dark and snog me?” she asked, teasing, and he laughed.

“Pretty much,” he said. “I had a feeling it might happen at some point tonight, and I kind of wanted it to be a private moment rather than a countdown to midnight with Ilsa cheering us on.”

It was Robin’s turn to laugh. “You know she’s still going to do that,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. “And she’ll still be delighted. But I wanted it to be just about us, first.”

Robin smiled in the dark, glad again that he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks. She was ridiculously touched.

“Happy new year, Cormoran,” she said, softly.

“Happy new year, Robin,” he replied. “Now we have to go back and do that again, but with an audience.”

She took his hand and tuned back towards the party.

“Needs must,” she said, contentedly.

 

 


End file.
